Short Terror Trip

Short story. Wife had the car for the afternoon, said she'd be home by 4 so I could go to work. No sweat. 4:30 rolls by and I'm getting nothing from her phone. It's cold out but not too cold, so the bike isn't out of the question. My commute today is a mere five minutes anyway.

Ten minutes later, the Ninja is eager to roll and I'm geared up for Hoth. I notice that it's starting to spit rain. Roads are a little moist. Fuck it, we're all lubed up, can't waste the moment.

Throw a leg over and roll out. Immediately notice the helmet fogs up like a Halloween party with minimal effort. Great. I reluctantly lift the visor a hair for intensely cold airflow in my sensory organs, for the sake of clearing the visor. All is well, if a bit uncomfortable.

Roll onto the main stretch between me and work. All that's in my way is one left turn at a stop light and about a mile of straight road. The horse is eager for RPMs, so I give her some throttle. Bad idea. Wind rips into the helmet and my eyes turn to slits. I'm fighting the visor to get the right balance of biting air to "please don't fog". Eventually I stop at the light and patiently await my turn as my face unfreezes. My hands are astounding amounts of nonexistent in terms of feeling.

Light changes, I let out the clutch, and quickly realized I can't feel it. The horse lets me know a split second later as it stalls under me. Honks abound behind me. I fired her back up and got the hell out of there, squeezing my hands the whole time to get enough feeling back to continue the otherwise boring stretch to the goal, knife-air and all.

TL;DR I'm an idiot that should get some heated gloves.